Through Glass
by Irihi B.W
Summary: Experiments are expected to be held within transparent prisons while the passing masses oogle and stare. But Omega was still a living being, forced to experiance what little life he could peering through glass. Elf Wars, shounen-ai, Omega/X.
1. I'm Looking At You Through The Glass

**Authror's Note**: This story, much like _Cold_, is meant to be a very long songfic, this time dedicated to the _**Omega/X**_ pairing. **This takes place before the Elf Wars and could be considered AU.** I'm taking a friend's advice, however, and uploading the seperate scenes as chapters instead of one massive fic like I did _Cold_. You can follow this story here, my personal site, or my dA.

"Through Glass" lyrics are by Stone Sour, not me! Megaman and all elements belong to Capcom, all rights reserved.

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><p>At first he had dismissed it as possible hallucinations, born from the constant experimentations he was subjected to. Yet each time he looked the hallucination lingered for seconds longer before vanishing in the passing masses of scientists and research teams. Somehow such a unique vision always vanished against the dull, repeating uniforms, which led to the idea it was a hallucination.<p>

But one night, when he should have been finally left truly alone, he opened his eyes to see that hallucination was very real, and staring right at him.

Omega's first reaction was not pleasant—immediately he bared his teeth and glared, knowing he could only see and be seen in this glass box of a room. Despite his feral appearance, the not-so-hallucination didn't change his expression to the usual condescending smirk. As it were, his green eyes looked that much sadder.

The sad, mournful stare continued, and slowly Omega's aggression faded as something else replaced the angry mistrust. A sort of nagging, and as he continued to watch from his side of the glass, it grew. Those eyes, set in that young and peaceful face, were supposed to mean something. Something possibly important, but as he tried to think, Omega wasn't sure if it was important to him or to his other half.

The sad look brightened a bit when the mirage offered a smile, although it took Omega several seconds to even realize it was a smile. It was small, pathetic really, but it still made Omega stare back in relative confusion. He had never seen a smile before, and he wasn't exactly sure how to react to it. Was it the same as the smirks his other half tended to give?

_Who is this?_ Omega's mind echoed. He even felt the temptation to ask out loud, but he knew better. No one could speak to him and he could speak no one, even if it was just an illusion.

The smile broke when the lips moved, and Omega glared at the person with renewed vigor for changing expressions before he could comprehend it. His eyes left the man's lips, back to his eyes, to see those green orbs shining with something other than scientific-only interest. Interest that was growing when Omega again lost his glare and watched in neutrality.

It was either Omega's lack of response or his blank stare, but the phantom's lips stopped moving. He stopped trying to speak, and instead, tried another smile. Something about it made Omega's shoulders slowly relax from their usual tense position, and he could only stare through the glass and wonder what the hell a smile was supposed to mean when it made him feel so strange to see it used against him.

The usual silence grated on Omega's nerves when the hallucination just kept watching and smiling, and the feeling that there should be some sort of sound made Omega tense again. Should he try to speak back?

He had been so focused on the smile, Omega failed to realize the other's eyes were constantly looking to the side, toward the entrance to the lab he was locked in. Omega watched his eyes flick several times before he looked to the side himself. When he looked back, the vision had lost his smile and was biting his lower lip nervously, as if he knew he shouldn't be doing something but wanted to anyway.

He wasn't a scientist in disguise, Omega surmised. But who was he?

That smile came back, much smaller and rather shaky, but it was supposed to mean something. Something different then the smiles before, but all Omega could do was stare when the vision slowly backed away from the glass, into the shadows of the low-lit hall until, like the hallucination it was, disappeared. Omega was left alone again in his silent little box. He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or not, but the longer Omega kept staring, the longer the after-image of the mirage stayed.

When he blinked, it was all gone, and Omega felt something like a jerking sensation against his throat. Did he imagine the whole thing?

For once Omega was dissatisfied with having the night to himself, and when he climbed back into his cot he kept staring out the glass window, wondering if he'll see his illusion again.

_**/I'm looking at you through the glass.../**_


	2. Don't Know How Much Time Has Passed

It was like a game to them, and Omega was forced to play just the way they want each time he was dragged into that God-forsaken testing lab. Strapped down to the table, his limbs offline to prevent him from retaliating, this was the only time Omega had a reason to vocalize anything. The only time he was spoken to… or, at least, had voices around him.

A nearby scientist stabbed a long catheter into the exposed subclavian port, and Omega couldn't help the howl of pain that burst from his mouth. His torso thrashed as much as it could, his arms and legs disturbingly still despite the obvious agony on his face. And they haven't even injected the new agent yet.

Zero leaned forward from his perch on the catwalk overhanging the testing field, frowning a bit as Omega's heated ruby eyes fixated on him. His other half gritted his teeth as the newly developed agent was pumped through the catheter, and the only time they lost eye contact was when Omega's eyes squeezed shut as he tried to keep his pain from them.

"Hey," Zero called down, the scientists glancing up at him. "I _do_ plan to inhabit my body again. I hope none of that crap is going to ruin it."

"Be rest assured," the head scientist, some guy Zero vaguely remembered was named Henry Weil or something. "We're taking care of your body. Our agents only affect programming functions."

Zero nodded, pushing himself off the railing he was leaning on just as he heard someone walk across the catwalk to him. Tilting his head, Zero smiled as X approached, the smile staying even as Omega finally couldn't hold back his screams.

That probably was the most disturbing part, and X frowned at his friend. "Do you really have to keep him awake for this?" another scream, and X couldn't bring himself to look over the edge.

"Unfortunately," Zero crossed his arms, looking over the edge dispassionately. "We won't know if the anti-Maverick measures work if he can't feel it."

"You can just read the results on the screen."

"He's a monster, X. Does it matter?"

X glared. "Yes. Monster or not, he's still a living being."

Zero looked at him, an expression of genuine surprise on his face. "X, he's the original Maverick. He's nothing but a violent, overriding _program_ inhabiting my body. He isn't like us… no soul. No heart. I'm ashamed he was ever a part of me."

X couldn't say anything more without being hypocritical. He often told Zero he wasn't his Maverick, after all… and there that Maverick was, screaming in agony, trying to writhe on the table and not even able to do that properly. It was disgusting…

The blue-armored Reploid turned away. "I can't handle this," he murmured.

Zero went to him, placing his hands on X's shoulders reassuringly. "I won't deny a part of me likes knowing my worse half is suffering," the blond said honestly. "But the bigger part of me dislikes the idea of making anything suffer. If I could I'd make it quick for him, but then we'd never know how to end the Maverick Crisis…"

X's shoulders were still tense. "I know," he muttered. "Doesn't mean I have to like it or condone it."

Zero let X go so he could walk away. He knew better than to try and make the reality anything but what it was—the torture of a Reploid for the greater good.

Looking over the edge, Zero saw Henry shaking his head and Omega a silent, twitching body on the table; he survived intact, so the experiment failed… meaning there would be another one soon. It should have been sad news, but Zero wasn't a liar—that part of him couldn't resist smirking at Omega's half-lidded, slackened face.

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><p>They never had the decency to put Omega in his cot when they dumped him back in the glass box. The security guards would literally throw him into the room, close the door, lock it and by on their way. Omega would lie face down on that cold tile for an unknown amount of time, trying to recover from the recent bout of experiments.<p>

The 'recovery period' he spent sprawled on the floor always varied. Even if he was a robot, Omega never knew how much time would pass by as he laid there in his silence, wondering why they couldn't at least put him in that damn cot. But the cold ground felt rather nice against his cheek, so even when he could have moved himself to the cot, Omega stayed on the ground for even a longer but still unknown amount of time.

His body—Zero's original body—had amazing self-repair capabilities, something Omega both appreciated and hated. If it didn't, he'd be in pain a lot longer, but it was half the reason he survived this long. If there was one thing Omega really didn't want, it was death. He had too much vengeance to unleash to die just yet. But for now, he was exhausted after that last attempt to kill him off.

He didn't get off the floor that night. Not that it mattered, anyway.

_**/Don't know how much time has passed./**_


	3. Oh God It Feels Like Forever

When they didn't need to study him or use their most recent experiments on him, Omega could only spend the time by staring at the people passing his little glass box by. Sometimes he recognized particular scientists or researchers, like the tall blond woman who always ran away when he was dragged into the lab. Or the creepy asshole that always did more than he said, not that it mattered to Omega. Sometimes he recognized the security units when they did their rounds.

But no matter how long he'd watch Omega never saw his hallucination during the day. He wasn't given any form of distraction or entertainment, and very rarely did anyone peer into the glass. They purposely made sure their eyes were averted, and Omega mostly saw people's hair or helmets moreso than faces and features. Hours of just watching the outside world pass him by as he sat in perfect silence and stillness.

Omega had no ways of distracting himself. The last time he tried to do anything, he was summarily stopped by none other than his other half, and as much as he loathed admitting it, Zero could defeat him when he was weaponless.

Shifting how he looked at the glass, Omega quit focusing on the people and instead stared at his faint reflection. Each time he saw Zero, he saw himself, down to the perfect detail. The only differences were mere pigment changes, such as the color of his eyes and hair… otherwise, he was the perfect half.

Something about that made Omega bite his tongue. The pain of such an action made him stop it, but when the stillness and nothingness settled in, only staring at his reflection, Omega bit his tongue again. When one had nothing to do, nothing to think, locked away from the world… pain was the only reminder.

_I still exist._

His reflection stared back and carefully Omega began to chew on his tongue. The reflection mimicked him, and for some reason, that was a bit comforting.

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><p>The night was no better than the day, in that Omega was left in silence. However, there were no moving bodies to temporarily capture his attention, and the lights were mostly off, leaving shadows to block anything possibly visually stimulating. His room was always lit up, but unless Omega wanted to stare at some more glass, there was no point in having his eyes open. He laid in his hammock, one foot on the ground to slowly swing himself; if he didn't move somehow, Omega swore he could <em>feel<em> the minutes bleeding around him.

But the little movement did nothing, and his hammock didn't make any sort of sound as he swung himself. Even if Omega scuffed his foot against the ground, the sound of it never really did much for him. He could tap the glass if he wanted to annoy the nighttime guards, but he wasn't in the mood to mess with them. Despite having done nothing, Omega had no energy to spend.

He just swung himself ever so slightly, just a reminder to any guard passing that yes, he was still awake. Still existing.

All he could do was keep his eyes closed and think to himself. Replay memories, or at least, the fragments of them. The only true clear memories he had were the ones prior to when he woke up after splitting from Zero, before the experiments started. And those were slowly being eaten away with each experiment tested.

Except for the hallucination, and Omega cracked open his eyes. It wasn't there on the other side of the window, but he let his memory feed bleed into his optics. A fuzzy, pixelated image of his mirage was superimposed on the glass wall he stared at.

He kept it there, staring and swinging. He had nothing else to do but remember the few facts still left in his head.

_**/Oh God, it feels like forever…  
><strong>__**But no one ever tells you that forever  
>feels like home sitting all alone inside your head…**_


	4. How Do You Feel: That Is The Question

Days were nothing to Omega, and he didn't bother trying to catalogue them. Every day was the same, sitting on his cot and staring at the people walking by. It was becoming such a dull routine, even the people Omega thought he recognized were melting into the same mass in his eyes. Or perhaps he never saw them again—at this point, he wasn't sure.

He looked at his reflection, resting his chin in his palm. It stared back, like it should, a solid truth Omega could hold on to. So long as his reflection remained true, he was still here. Sitting here.

Idly, Omega moved his pinky finger toward his mouth and stuck the tip past his lips. Without thinking, just watching the mimicking reflection, he bit down on it.

The pain made him jerk his hand away from his mouth, the hiss he emitted echoing like a shriek. No one outside paid him mind, couldn't hear the deafening sound from within, not caring as he stared with blank eyes the little droplets of blood oozing from the tear in his gloves his teeth had made.

He had bled a lot while subjected to this existence, but making himself bleed made Omega frown. He stuck his finger back into his mouth, using his tongue to press against the little cut as his eyes rose to the window. The little _pop_ of his finger being freed from his lips echoed even louder than his hiss did, his mouth dropping a bit as he stared.

In the middle of the faceless mass, standing still among their bustle as if in his own glass box, was the hallucination. And it had that same small, sad little smile and pitying, sorrowful eyes.

Their stillness remained unnoticed by the moving, uncaring crowd. Several times a body blocked Omega's vision for a second, and each time it did his apprehension rose only to gently fade when the hallucination was still there. His eyes were on that smile, the one thing that Omega found the most distracting.

When the hallucination's lips moved, Omega's eyes moved to its own eyes. He didn't know what it—no, _he_, not it—was trying to say… if he was trying to speak at all.

The illusion raised a hand up, pressing a single finger to his lips as if shushing Omega. Such an action was preposterous, and it made Omega frown severely. It was not as if he could be heard!

But the smile behind the finger grew, and Omega found himself staring hopelessly. What did it mean?

The stillness of his mirage broke when the blue-clad figure turned to walk away. Omega wasn't sure if it was his imagination or if the hallucination did turn that slowly, leaving an afterimage from each movement. He moved away from the box, and each slow step he took away, Omega felt more air leave him and not return.

By the time Omega rose from the hammock to step forward, to maybe protest for once, the hallucination had vanished among the faceless mass that still didn't care about him. Gracelessly and quickly Omega dropped back into his hammock, staring at where the figure was.

Smile aside, Omega was left to wonder what he was trying to say, and why it made him feel so tense.

_**/"How do you feel?" That is the question;/**_


	5. But I Forget

Anxiety was at an emotion Omega was not used to, yet it was the only explanation for what he was feeling. Never before had he actually looked forward to something, but after seeing his illusion today... Did it mean he'll come tonight?

Omega tried to look normal so the security would not be suspicious, lying in his shabby hammock and swinging slightly; he kept his eyes open in slits, staring at the window toward the hall and waited.

Perhaps even dared to hope.

Omega waited for minutes, hours, the night passing with no movement. The silence was normal; the dim lights outside contrasting to the forever-bright lights of his cage all a tiny comfort as he waited. Yet Omega was never the patient type, and when he assumed it was well after midnight he stopped swinging himself and looked to the ceiling. He felt something like disappointment, and fully closed his eyes, letting out a silent sigh. Omega mentally berated himself; to hope to see a hallucination... being locked in a glass box was doing more than whittling away his sanity. It was making him stupid.

Time flowed by and he resolved himself to just sleep the rest of it away. He didn't bother getting more comfortable, just settled further into the hammock and began the hibernation process. As the process started, he felt a sort of burning feeling on his face; he swiped at his cheek in irritation, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Hibernation always was so…

No. This 'burning' was familiar, associated to something else. Omega's eyes flew open as he felt that sensation at being _stared at_. He looked to the window, and standing there was his beautiful mirage. As always the illusion was smiling, this time a bit bigger, more confident. Omega sat up in his hammock but didn't go to the window. That smile, so disarming, kept him at the back of the glass room. That smile rendered him unable to do anything but stare. He was as still as the silence in the room.

Yet the hallucination seemed fine with that. He walked to the glass; carefully placing his hands against it, smiling all the while. Omega blinked, and a sort of twisting but good feeling came to him when the mirage remained. The lights on the glass played a trick on Omega's eyes, giving the hallucination an aura, complimenting the soft blues of his robe and highlighting the halo shimmering above his head.

Omega didn't believe in angels. They were figments of imagination, but since this was an illusion…

_Who are you?_Omega wanted to say, but the glass would not let his words through.

The hallucination looked behind himself, then back to the window. He leaned forward, breathing against the glass and traced against the now foggy surface with a fingertip. The phantom smiled wider, then brought the finger to his lips and winked. The look made Omega tense, more confusion mounting as he tried to comprehend what _that_expression actually meant. The fog faded before Omega even looked at it.

The mirage backed away from the window, and despite the aura he blended into the dim shadows of the hall, as quietly as he came. Only after when the being was gone did Omega finally moved; he slid off the hammock, slowly walking to the glass window. Glancing around for the guards, Omega leaned down and breathed against the glass.

For a few seconds, Omega could make out a faint '_X_.'

**/But I forget... you don't expect an easy answer./**


	6. When Something Like A Soul

Omega didn't believe in heaven or hell. Didn't believe in karma, justice, destiny or anything… but he did believe in revenge, and each time he was dragged to that lab, his desire for revenge grew. When they strapped him to that table, his limbs offlined again, and he saw that mirroring flash of blond and blood red, the reason to continue existing roared within his core. He'll exist, break free, and get his revenge on his other half, no matter what it took or what was sacrificed.

Even if he lost his sanity, he'd do it.

The table Omega was strapped to suddenly became a frame, exposing his back. He felt himself sink into it until his limps were pulled enough to make his body taunt over the sudden hole. His vest was removed, the undersuit unzipped to the waist and the sleeves cut so it could be dragged down. When the cold assaulted him, Omega hissed, lifting his head to look up at Zero on his damned high place, mustering all the hate he could into his look.

When Zero smirked back, it was because the wires from the machine below the table stabbed into the original's back, slicing artificial muscles, tendons, and unfortunate wires to penetrate forcefully into the smaller-than ports.

Omega howled as he felt what seemed to be _gallons_ of his blood and fluids splash to the awaiting tank below, dripping messily down the massive wires that forced his back's ports to split to accommodate them. He had thought the intrusion was possibly destructive enough to cut his pain sensory off, but no, he knew that smirk on Zero's face. The pain was only just starting.

He kept his eyes trained on his other half, teeth grinding and bared. As the newest causative agent entered his body through those broken ports, his programming forcefully hacked as his body was too busy trying to keep itself online to fight off the technical invasion and new source of pain, Omega could only howl at Zero. He was in agony, and it showed, but the hate was clear in his eyes.

Zero's own eyes were much more subtle, much darker in their twisted mirth; there was no denying his brand of hatred for the Maverick beneath him.

Omega fought the hacking, fought the pain, just so he could keep his eyes on that traitorous other half of his. He wanted that smug look to be seared into his circuits, his memory, his soul even, so that when he got free he could rip it right off that copy's face.

He didn't know how much time passed, nor the fact the hacking and agent circulation eventually stopped, since the pain and hate never did. The only reason Omega noticed it was nearing the end was Zero looking disappointed and, like the coward he was, breaking their heated eye contact to walk away. The offensive cables detached and dropped away from him, and he could still feel his blood streaming out of the large wounds those cables caused. Regardless the table filled its center and the Maverick went limp once his limbs were no longer pulled to keep him taunt.

"Take him to the back," Omega heard Henry mutter. "I'll repair him."

His will might have kept him online during the hellish experiment, but it did nothing to stop the guards from grabbing Omega and dragging him off the table and across the floor to another area of the lab. The only resistance he could put up was a snarl, but only the guards seemed intimidated. Henry just shook his head.

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><p>Henry was able to get the guards to leave, but only after Omega's still offlined limbs were shackled down to the medical table. His head was turned so he could see the scientist peel off torn, bloody chunks of ruined Reploid flesh and distorted pieces of metal. It should have hurt, but Henry had forcefully offlined most of Omega's sensory units. But the Maverick wasn't about to chalk it up to human kindness or even pity.<p>

"You're quite the formidable one, code Omega." Henry muttered as he began to repair the damage done. "By all logical reasons, the combined pain of physical torture and program tearing should have offlined you permanently this time… yet you remain, conscious even."

Omega just grunted, but not to reply—it was more of a reflex when Henry jerked out another faulty plate, pulling Omega's body up a bit then dropping back down onto the hard surface of the table.

"I know you can speak, you're a fully functional Reploid, not some animal conscious like Zero pretends you are. My name is Henry Weil."

_I know who you are._ Omega thought, but kept his silence. He knew Henry Weil and his associate, the blond woman Aurora, both assigned to the 'Hope' project. That is, the very torture Omega had to endure, the project that made him a guinea pig for their anti-virus attempts.

"Very well," Henry will pause in his repairing. "I'll get to the point. What is it you want most, Omega?"

The Reploid snorted. This was a waste of time, although it wasn't like Omega didn't have plenty of it. "Nothing." He'll growl. His voice sounded guttural from the screaming earlier, and general disuse outside of the lab experiments.

Henry laughed. "Even a mindless ant wants something. Revenge, Omega? Power? A chance to re-assimilate Zero and torture him for eternity as you shred the world apart?"

All were tempting, but Omega said nothing to the options. He wasn't the mindless monster people assumed he was, and he was not the power-hungry dolt this Henry Weil thought he was. To be so idiotically filed as such…

No, he didn't want any of those things. Not a single one if it had to be _handed_ to him.

"Freedom," Omega finally uttered.

"Splendid, that's well within reason and easy to obtain!" Henry laughed—the sound grated on Omega's nerves. "That is, if you'll do as I ask. Just one simple little task, and freedom you shall have."

_That's a new prison called debt._ Omega remained silent, even as Henry prodded him for an answer. Why trade a new glass box for another?

"I suppose you'll need time to warm up to the idea of a human enlisting your aid. That's fine, if you think you can withstand the experiments. Unfortunately I can't stop working on them until you say yes. But think well, Omega—with me, freedom and revenge are possible." Ending his recruiting speech, although Omega couldn't recall if the man even spoke of the favor itself or not, Henry resumed the repairs.

Is this what he was reduced to—a pathetic, tortured being that's expected to jump at the most ridiculous of baits? Bribed by his own torturer… what a riot... him, the original Maverick, how could he fall so low...

One prison for another… then again, it couldn't get worse than this. At least in Weil's glass box, Omega had something to exist for outside hallucinations.

_**/When something like a soul becomes initialized  
><strong>__**And folded up like paper dolls and little notes  
>You can't expect a bit of hope…**_


End file.
